Two Face
by CareFreeHugz
Summary: After a year of moving to the city of Manhattan, Russel's lucky really seemed to take a dive for a worst. Feeling as if he is on a whole knew planet, he doesn't know who to turn to. Being seventeen years old and an alcoholic, all he wants is a family and that is exactly what he finds. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, before I start I would just like to say high to everyone. For those who have actually read my previous two stories 'Esmond' and 'Another World' I am afriad to say that I will not be continuing with any of them. I have actually been inspired though to do this FanFic after doing an narrative in school on how guilt can lead to good deads and bam, here it is. This is something that will have slow updates but I have posted chapter one, two and three as well as my character information of Russel on my Quotev page and am currently working on chapter four which is coming out tomorrow.**

 **This story is mainly something I will be working on in my free time which I don't have much of unfortunatly because this year of school is one of the most important ones. I really hope everyone enjoys my story, and that if you have something to say feel free to leave a comment unless it isn't constructive critism.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Avengers universe except for my characters and the story line.**

 **Another thing you should know before you read, I am actually just starting out in 3rd POV so it may be a little confusing since I tend to use 1st POV just in case it gets a little bumpy along the way.**

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Sometimes, people do wonder who they really are or who they could be.

This is something Russel tends to have problems with; the hardest was that he did not know if what he was capable of was a gift or a curse.

Some days he could be one person, while the next he could be the complete opposite of who he was, heck, he could most probably live the life of another and not be noticed.

Take today for an example.

No longer was he a high schooler, but was instead doing something he regretted yet seemed to be an action that he should've done ages ago.

Gone were his rust coloured locks and youthful looks and instead the scruffy appearance of a middle age man who was unconscious in a motel room thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Russel would consider this to be the best he has done when it came to his abilities, but he didn't know how long he could keep up the act.

Almost as if to see if he was real he tenderly raked a finger along his cheek and watched as the skin rippled like a pebble disturbing water of a pond, pale and freckled skin showing for only a second before turning tan once more. His brown eyes remained the same but they were something Russel didn't want to change, his nose and lips more masculine and weather worn.

Lines of age were on his forehead while rough salt and pepper coloured hair sat on his jaw from what seemed to have not been groomed in a few days by how fuzzy it looked. It seemed out of place compared to the rest of his head which had been shaved and was paler than the rest of the head.

Russel didn't know if he would back out of this, yet a part of him seemed almost as if he was having the time of his life. Adrenaline perhaps, either way he was too deep in thought to care.

His body had grown to what he considers to be a notable height, now six foot two but the only thing wrong was the way his gut stuck out and the white wife beater tank only made it more noticeable while his legs were covered in a pair of dark brown slacks and was wearing a pair of black dress shoes.

Russel almost pulled a face of disgust as he looked back up at the slightly cracked mirror that hung on the wall of the motel room, wondering if he should've chosen to take the appearance of the prostitute that he had also knocked out and was laying on the bed besides the man.

He just didn't want to go through the trouble of what he had done once again, and doubted he would feel comfortable in the body of the opposite body.

Russel could easily change his appearance but what he did today made his head hurt as if his head was being bashed with a hammer and a nose bleed. He had removed his clothes which were safely tucked into his backpack before he had experimenting, the pain only starting when he tried to morph himself so he was wearing the man's clothes and so he had the same strength.

That was defiantly something Russel never plans on doing again.

Tiredly he ran a hand over his head, well he really didn't know if he should call it his, and felt strange about the lack of hair. He knew he was exhausted by the way his eyes were bloodshot, the lack of sleep catching up to him and quickly so he would have to move fast. Russel gave a little nod to himself in the mirror, letting out a deep breath from his dry throat as if to reassure himself.

Unknowingly to Russel the petty crime would just be the start of something that he did not expect.

. . . . .

Goosebumps decorated Russel's bare arms as he leaned against the rough brick wall of an alley, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as his hands. He hadn't bothered to throw on the coat that laid forgotten in the room of the hotel, and he regretted that decision. It was now late at night.

It would be considered beautiful if not for the stress he felt.

From what his watch read it was two past ten, the glow of the city blocking out the stars as traffic drove on the streets and groups of people walked by. The nightlife was quite active at this time to his disappointment, and he didn't particularly want to be seen by anyone. The area of Manhattan he was in wasn't run down like the neighbourhood he lived in yet it wasn't typically busy.

It just had a few restaurants but it was mainly just apartments separated by alleys which were either wide or narrow, but big enough for a car to drive through. Russel had stationed himself next to an Italian restaurant called 'Little Italy', and from what he had gathered the person he was waiting for came every Friday night and ate either alone or with another female which shouldn't be too hard yet it wouldn't be easy.

Russel was just hoping that she was alone tonight.

Nervously his fingers fiddled with the weapon in his hand. It didn't look much, it was just a folding razor knife he had picked up but it would surely be able to do a lot of damaged from how sharp the blade looked. Easily his ears picked up the sound of the small bell ringing that was above the door and the sound of heels, this time he hoped that it was actually the woman he had been waiting for.

Russel dropped the cigarette to the ground, using the front of his foot to grind the cigarette bud against the uneven ground as he moved closer to the opening of the alley. He couldn't hear anyone besides the footsteps moving closer to the alley and he could only pray that there would be no witnesses.

His breath seemed to be caught in his throat as he waited, only moving forward once he had seen the strawberry blonde hair. The small sound of surprise coming from her let Russel know that his attack was unexpected, his hand gripping at her upper arm roughly as his blade was position in case it would be needed.

Grabbing the woman was harder than he had expected as she thrashed, Russel ended up having to move his arm up so her mouth was a pressed against the crook of her arm as she went to scream. Finally he managed to get the woman behind a dumpster where he threw her to the ground, her body landing with a thud as he stared down at her hoping to look threatening as he held the razor tightly in his hand.

The woman he had grabbed was the one and only Pepper Potts.

The thirty three year old woman was scrambling to get up and would have succeeded if it weren't for the fact that Russel had pressed his foot against her lower back. Although he was trying to do his best to be intimidating he couldn't help but try to fight off a blush as he saw that the skirt of her dress had flown up and exposed her lacy underwear which was something he didn't need to see.

"Give me all your valuables," Russel spoke, mentally cursing himself for the slight tremor in his voice as he moved his foot from her back, a footprint of dirt left on the light pink fabric. Russel could see the hesitation in her blue eyes as she stared up at him, her hand nervously gripping the pendent that hung around her neck.

"Now," he spat, spittle flying from his mouth aggressively as he moved closer making the woman flinch. "How about we talk this out, I can see that you don't want to do this," she said, her voice seemingly calm yet Russel could see that she was frightened and it wouldn't be long until she kicks into fight or flight mode.

Russel's tongue flicked out a swiped over his bottom lip as if he was tasting the air, feeling impatient he easily pulled the clutch from her body which caused the chain to snap from her body. "Just do it," he snarled, his brown eyes watched as she slipped the few rings from her fingers.

"Hurry up," Russel said; his foot tapping against the ground as he knew her ride would be coming within a few minutes. Next he watched as she unlatched the necklace from her neck and a watch from around her wrist before handing over the handful of jewellery. Russel snatched the jewellery from her hand and shoved it into the pocket of the brown slacks before he buried his hand into her bag, being careful not to cut his own fingers.

As his hand searched the bag, he never moved his eye from her as he gripped her purse and threw the bag to her feet but kept the purse. With uncertainty, Russel shuffled back until his back brushed the opposite wall where he opened the purse and hurriedly bunched the multiple notes of money in his hand.

"I'm going to go now, and you are not allowed to leave until your ride shows up," Russel spoke, the bottom lip quivering as she eyed the pendant that hung from his grip, it was noticeable that it was important to her.  
With that he ran, every part of his body burning with regret.

 **Word Count: 1698**


	2. Chapter 2

Russel's pocket felt heavy as he stared at the rusted numbers of the door, his hand on the smooth cold surface of the door handle. He didn't end up going home last night but instead had gotten his clothes back on and got comfortable in an alley not so far away from the apartment building he lived in.

There was no doubt in his mind that his mother would be doing what she called 'entertaining' a male she has picked up from the bar that was just down the road. It hadn't always been like this, but lately he knew that his mother was falling into the deep end of a shitty life.

She had really only spiralled into this kind of lifestyle when the bills and debts really started pilling, after all moving to a busy city in America from a country town in Australia was going to be an expensive thing but she really didn't think of the cost. When they had first moved here, the apartment was well furnished as his mother worked in a company that would decorate the reception areas of a wedding.

After the first year a lot of the valuable belongings have been sold, including his bed frame, and she had two jobs. Working as a waitress in a cheap café and a cleaner at a motel which was even cheaper, if Gordon Ramsey was to film it in 'Hotel Hell' he would have a heart attack. It wasn't long until she found one job that paid well.

Prostitution

It wasn't long after that until she fell back on drugs to help her get through with her occupation and that is really when Russel's problems had appeared. He was only seventeen years old, a boy who is either ignored or bullied by students who are actually big enough to take him down. To teachers he was a wallflower, who just needed a little push to have some friends.

In reality, Russel was falling down the wrong path. Although he hated who the once warm hearted woman had become, he couldn't help but fall back on alcohol to soothe his worries. A part of him really wanted to blame his father for the life he now lives, but he knows this isn't his fault; it was just something that pushed his mother to become the woman who she was today.

It was only two years prior when Russel's father had come into his bedroom and talked about how his parents were getting a divorce. Not long after that Kevin, Russel's father, had gotten married to his piano teacher who would go to the house every Wednesday and Friday afternoons.

With a small and tired shake of the head, he pushed the door open and was almost instantly greeted by the thick smell of smoke before closing the door behind him softly in case his mother was asleep. Russel's stomach grumbled as he walked down the hallway, bottles of beers clanking softly as he walked by the living room which was a mess before he stopped at his mother's bedroom.

Sure enough she was asleep in her bed, her red hair looking like a mane of a lion while her body _– which was too skinny for Russel's liking –_ was protected by a sheet wrapped around her body. A half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the nightstand, after standing in the doorway for a few moments Russel felt his fingers on his right hand twitch before walking to the bed side and taking the bottle of whiskey in his possessions before quietly padding out of the room. He'd rather it be him to be the one drinking rather than his mother whose health was declining rapidly.

With that retreated to his bedroom and locked the door behind him.

Kicking off his worn and once white converses, he allowed himself to fall forward and landed on the lumpy mattress that was on top of an even lumpier mattress. A yawn stretched at his lips as he moved his body further up the bed, burying his face into the pillow as he realised the grip on the bottle of alcohol.

The sleep he had last night hadn't been very long, despite the guilt of robbing Pepper Potts he had waited just a few blocks from his home to see if he could do it again. The more valuables the better, but that plan had backfired so he gave in to his exhaustion. From what his watch had calculated, he had only caught up on five hours of sleep from the past few days before being yelled out by the man who ran the crappy Italian restaurant who claim to be five star quality.

With a small sound of protest he rolled onto his back feeling the dull pain in his back from sleeping on an odd angle and he moved his hand over his pocket which held the stolen jewellery and money which he hadn't been bothered to count. Potts had most likely gotten the jewellery from Stark which meant that it would have to be expensive, that man was far from cheap.

Russel really didn't know if he could continue through with his plan, but he couldn't just show up and apologise for dragging her into an alley and taking her things and walk out expecting to not be held by security until the police arrive.

Stuffing his hand into the pocket of his jeans he pulled out what he had stolen, as mentioned before he had a necklace with a pendant charm, four rings and one of them being a gold wedding band with what looks to be an engagement rings and two others being accessories, a watch and money.

Sitting up and crossing his legs, he placed the stolen jewellery and cash in the gap of his legs before picking out the now wrinkled notes before shuffling them quickly to count them. Russel found that his mother's ex-position at the bank in Australia an advantage, meaning he could count money quicker and neater than how you would see people making separate piles of coins to dollars and then counting them.

In total he had two hundred and thirty dollars, most of the notes being twenty dollars while there was a fifty and a few tens. The plan was to go to the apartment opposite the one Russel lives in due to the man's hobby of trading valuables such as jewellery (mainly stolen) for money if he sees it as something to go with a good price.

The one thing you have to be sure of is not to be scanned. A few weeks back a woman was pounding on his door because he only gave her one hundred and fifty dollars for a necklace which she discovered to be worth a thousand dollars. Luckily it was enough money to buy the new science and math textbooks he needed at school, and with the change it would be enough to have two grocery trips.

With that done, Russel picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels and unscrewed the cap before placing the bottle to his lips. Despite the burning in his throat, he enjoyed the warmth in his stomach before he took another mouthful. Although he knew that he shouldn't be getting drunk, he thought that is would be easier to trade the jewellery for cash if he was intoxicated and he wouldn't be guilty about it but on the other hand when he is hunched over the toilet bowl after a hangover he would surely regretted.

Russel had learnt the hard way that he is not someone who has a light hangover.

Gulping down another bottle of alcohol, Russel flicked his tongue out and tasted the liquid on his lips before screwing the cap on tightly before burying the bottle under the pile of clothing besides the bed. It would be very unlikely that his mother would remember having the bottle of alcohol on the nightstand.

Looking down at the jewellery he couldn't help but sigh once more, guilt eating at his stomach once more.

 _Maybe he could send the jewellery back from the post office?_

He threw this idea away with a small scoff like sound, his hand raking through his hair before his eyes snapped to the front door which he could see from his open doorway as he heard a sharp knock before someone attempted to open the door but was prevented by the chain lock that Russel always insist on doing seeing as the normal lock doesn't work and they don't have a deadlock.

Knowing the type of people who live in this apartment building it was for the best.

Not hearing a single response from his mother's room Russel stood up from his bed, picking up the jewellery and money before walking over to his school bag where he hid the stolen goods into the front pocket of the bag. Another loud knock echoed throughout the apartment.

"I'm coming," Russel called out, using his foot to nudge his bag back into the corner before he exited the room. It wasn't often that people had knocked on the door, there were only a few and they were always here for things he hated. Such as them having a 'session' with his mother, dealing drugs, demanding money and of course the man who claims to be his mother's escort who was the biggest dick he had ever met.

That man was Vance Brennan.

Vance Brennan was only in his mid twenties, and although he was an escort for his mother they claimed to be 'engage' and if it was questioned, my mother would show off the ring on her finger which was really nothing special. He was the same height as Russel, but his body was scrawny and scar covered so if there was to be a fight between the two Russel would surely win.

Vance's hair was just a blob of brown mess on his hand, looking thick yet wiry and matted with streaks of an ugly blonde colour through it. His eyes were beady and a dull brown, while his nose was long and pointed with a slight crook in it from a previous brake in the bone while his lips were thin.

Reaching the door, Russel didn't bother to look through the peep hole as he unlatched the chain and pulled the door open. Unfortunately it was Vance, a brown paper bag with what he assumes to be alcohol while wearing a white wife beaters tank which showed off his non-existent muscles, a pair or cargo shorts and flip-flops which Russel thinks is ridiculous seeing as the man can actually afford clothes that aren't cheap.

Not waiting for his entrance to be granted Vance pushed past Russel and head straight towards his mother's room.

"Wake up," came Vance's nasally drawl from the bedroom, followed by a small sound of protest from what is to be assumed from a shaky awakening. "Piss off," that was the response Russel heard from his mother, a smile on his lips forming at that as he heard a sound of annoyance from Vance. "Get out of bed, quit being a sleaze," Vance said, and Russel couldn't help but drop the smile, he hated Vance speaking to his mother just as much as he hates even being within one hundred metres of the man.

"Just let her sleep Vance," Russel said as he moved into the doorway, only to be greated with a dirty look from the man who had removed the sheet that was once covering his mother. "Fuck of kid, go draw some rainbows," Vance sneered, only receiving on of Russel's many unimpressed looks. "She wants to sleep," Russel said as he watched his mother roll onto her side, her arms clutching onto the pillow.

"Beat it kid," Vance snapped. This was really all that happened between Vance and Russel, yet it would usually be him annoying Vance until he knew it was time to back of. Other than that, Vance struggled to send Russel out of the apartment but usually the teen would leave on his own to avoid drama while Vance would get his mother high before inviting some 'friends' over for the night.

With a roll of his eyes, Russel left the room and headed back to his and almost instantly felt the guilt come back to him. The short distraction proven useful to take the thoughts of what he had done last night from his mind. A frustrated sigh left his mouth before raking a hand through his hair which he tended to do often. Not only did he feel bad for the billinonaire's soon to be wife, he felt bad that a man was going to be the one in trouble for stealing when he was just wanting a night with some prostitute.

He would've had that fun night if it weren't for the fact that Russel had chosen him.

Then a thought struck him. Russel felt like a complete idiot that he forgort earlier that Pepper Potts had not seen who he really was, she just saw a scruffy looking business man. _Maybe he could just say that he pick-pocketed the items from the man's pocket while on the subway?_ Russel instantly dismised that thought, his mother may be out of it but he would be in deep shit if she were to find out that her son had become a theif.

 _What if he said he found it in a dumpster outside his apartment building?_

If Russel was to go with that excuse, he would most likely have to drop the jewellery in the trash and he would feel even more guilty that he had dirtied the expensive jewels. All together, his plans which he had all thrown out the window all led to one place and that was the home of the Avengers

 **Word Count: 2324**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Russel couldn't help but let his head fall back in defeat. It was official; he would never make it in the life of crime.

It had been just around four hours since Vance had arrived and he had retreated back to his bedroom, and only ten minutes since he had came out of hiding to see that Vance and his mother was no longer in the apartment. Much to his annoyance the front door was left ajar, which was an open invitation for anyone in the building to enter the apartment and take whatever they find valuable which would be something hard for them to accomplish.

In those few hours Russel had crashed and burned when he had closed his eyes and only planned to have a few moments of rest, only to wake up with a path of saliva down his chin and a damp spot around his mouth on the pillow much to his embarrassment. Thankfully when he had come back to the land of the living Russel's thoughts were no longer stressed about what he had done, instead all he could focus on getting something into his stomach and watching some TV.

That brought him back to where he was now.

Sitting on the old couch in the living room. Like almost everything in the apartment, the couch was crap. It was a deep maroon coloured leather couch where parts of the leather had faded until it was a light brown from how scruffy the surface was and it was lumpy, the middle section being a place where no one sits on due to the broken spring. Despite the fact that the couch was horrible, Russel had gotten himself comfortable in the position his teacher from kindergarten would call 'Sitting Indian Style' with a chipped bowl of Cap'n Crunch Cereal on his lap.

Getting over the fact that he couldn't have milk with his favourite food, Russel had eaten half of the dry cereal as he surfed the TV channels that they had before he came onto the news channel.

On the screen was the one and only Pepper Potts, the woman Russel had mugged the previous night.

 _"So Miss Potts, do you have any idea what the man looked like from last night?" Manhattan's well known reporter, Robert Clarke, questioned her as she looked to the left to give Tony Stark a look who nodded at her slightly. "Well you could tell that the man was in his late thirties and he had a short beard and was six foot two, that was really all I could see from how dark it was," Pepper spoke, her English accent coming out strong but a bit shaky._

 _"What did that man take from you last night if I may ask? Maybe if found they will be returned since the people of Manhattan knows who the owner of the jewellery is," Robert questioned as the woman shifted uncomfortable, most likely not enjoying being questioned just outside a brunch cafe which her and Tony tend to go to very often._

 _"Well I had a necklace and a pendant to it stolen from me which was one of my favourite gifts from my mother as well as my watch, and my engagement ring and accessory rings had been taken," Pepper answered._

With that, Russel finally managed to turn off the TV as he slumped back against the old couch.

"Fuck."

That single word came out stretched in a groan, his slightly stinging eyes closing as he breathed in deeply feeling annoyed at himself from an insanely huge wave of guilt. Russel was just hoping that the man he had taken the appearance of doesn't get in trouble with the law for what he has done, no doubt if it was to happen he would be all of the media and Russel's guilt would just be the end of him.

Thinking back more of what he had done last night, he should've known he would have felt guilty because he still remembers the time he cried out of guilt for killing a lady beetle and that was when he was fourteen. Just three years ago. Sure it was embarrassing, but he never really forgave himself for killing it even though it sounds ridiculous. Shovelling a spoonful of his cereal into his mouth, not eating as fast as his empty stomach would've wanted.

Cursing mentally at himself Russel stood up with his bowl of cereal before making his way to the joining kitchenette, and knowing he wouldn't eat anymore he pulled the box of cereal out of the door less pantry and tipped the remains of the dry cereal into the box before leaving the bowl and spoon into the sink. "I am never going to let this go, am I?" Russel questioned himself as he shuffled to his room and closed the door behind him.

As cliché as it sounds, he actually wanted to take the jewellery back to Pepper Potts and be the good guy for once.

With that Russel had for some reason caved in, walking over his bag he pulled out the jewellery but left the money. After all he wasn't a good thief if he gave everything back. Right?

 **. . . . .**

Forty three minutes.

It took Russel a full forty three minutes to be able to get to the tower. Turns out, the tower just looks closer to his apartment building due to the size and not the actual distance. Along the way he guiltily watched a mugging took place, got an offer to receive a hand-job from a not so good looking prostitute, almost got hit by a speeding car and got yelled at for apparently causing a business man to spill his coffee.

All together, that would be one of the most social experiences Russel has had since primary school back in Australia. What a major disappointment that was.

Now he stood outside the entrance of the Avenger's home with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his ratty jeans and earning looks from the woman who sat at the front desk. She was just sitting and staring at him as she popped her bubble gum in her mouth, a sharp eyebrow raised in an invisible question along the lines of 'why is there a homeless kid here?' Russel actually wouldn't blame her if she was thinking that, after all he was wearing old jeans, falling apart sneakers and a t-shirt that is holey.

To finish it off, his thick hair was wild from the lack of grooming and added sleep.

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Russel entered the building and awkwardly shuffled towards the receptionist desk while trying to not look as bad as he suspected himself to be. "Welcome to Avenger's Tower, do you have an appointment?" She questioned and Russel shook my head no. "Uh, I, um," mentally cursing himself for the way he had started out, Russel cleared his throat.

"I was wondering if you could take these up to Miss Potts," Russel mumbled but loud enough for her to hear as he scooped the jewellery from his pocket and placed them on the desktop which was raised a level higher than the desk the woman sat at. "And where did you get these from?" The woman asked with a frown as she poked at one of the rings with a manicured finger.

"I found them in an alley by my apartment earlier and I saw the news an hour ago and thought that they may be hers since they look expensive," Russel managed to lie, blowing out a small puff of air as he balanced all his weight on his left leg. "Well I need you to just go other there, Mr Stark had said that if anyone has brought in the jewellery will be rewarded," the woman said as she motioned her hand over to a line of seats.

"But-."

"And I am sure that Mr Stark will use security footage of you face to identify you and show up at your front door, so I suggest you go sit down unless you want him to know everything about you," she said, cutting Russel off in mid-sentence making the corners of his lips dip down. One of his many pet peeves was getting interrupted when he was talking. "I'm sure it won't take too long, but I recommend you get comfortable. There are magazines for reading on the table but they are not to leave the building," she spoke, a fake looking smile making it way on her face.

With that Russel swept the jewellery into his hand with a huff as he walked towards the leather seats, not impressed by the worker at the reception. Shoving the stolen possessions into his pocket he sat back into one of the seats. To Russel, he would prefer to be locked in a confine space with Vance for a few hours than face the one of the most richest men in the world. After all, he wasn't really skilled when it came to lying.

A four year old can most probably lie better than him, and all they spurt out is complete nonsense.

An example of this is when Russel's four year old cousin had told him that she had 'been attacked by a shark and had her arm and leg bit' while being completely confident while doing so.

Running his hands through his hair before down his face he slumped back lazily and eyed the lobby which he should've done before speaking to the woman. Like anyone would expect from Stark, the lobby was sleek and polished as well as stylish, reminding him of a scene on a movie before the room had been blown to bits. Russel noticed that he was one of few people in the lobby, the receptionist being one of them, a man in a security uniform standing by the farthest back elevator and a few men and women in business suits.

Despite the buzzing of people's conversation he could tell that he was noticeable, after all Russel was the only red head out of a sea of brunettes (and one blonde behind a desk who seemed to be bored with her job) and was wearing clothing that seemed ratty to theirs even though they were just a _bit_ worn.

Flicking a tongue out over his lips his eyes stared at the ceiling, not knowing what he should be looking at. Russel did have a bad habit of staring at people when he was bored and having a complaint about him staring wasn't needed here like it was at his Australian high school. "Miss Potts is on her way down," I heard the receptionist say and I looked to my left, seeing the blonde woman watching me.

"'Kay," I mumbled out, not caring if she heard or not before looking back up at the ceiling as my fingers restlessly fidgeted. Between what I did last night and facing Pepper Potts, I dread facing Pepper Potts more than the guilt, the encounter which is going to happen is something that is most probably either going to make me a bigger man or I will get in trouble due to me not being able to lie.

The sound of the elevator doors opening brought me back to where I was, and I couldn't help but let out a sigh as I saw the familiar strawberry blonde woman through the widening gap. With that his head fell back and he said what seemed to be his favourite word lately.

"Fuck."


	4. Back From The Dead

Hey Guys, it's just CareFreeHugz here, previously SilverThornSlytherin,

I admit that I have been a rather lazy author, but really all I can say that school is the reason for this. I really haven't done much writing besides in my two breaks at school which isn't much and due to being in Year 10 now I do get more work than I did before. I honestly thought I would be able to write good stories with the work I have now, but I was wrong.

But now since it is towards the third term holiday I am finding myself to have more time. So yeah. Previously I have published three stories on this website (Another World, Esmond and Two Face) but since trying to continue on with the stories I really haven't been able to persuade myself to write them due to how long it has been.

I, however, am going to be writing yet another story and hopefully I will be able to publish it yet I am a bit hesitant about is since I do struggle greatly when creating the character bio (I do really find it easier to write stories more than making characters). I am writing an Avengers FanFic once more, despite the fact that I love Young Justice I do find it easier to write about Avengers, and no' Ultron will not be in it.

So if anyone, even though I don't have many readers, can suggest some powers or something to base the powers off of it will be great. Maybe I will be lucky enough to gain some advice even to create the story.

I am also on Quotev (which I find to be absolutely amazing), my user name is CareFreeHugz and I will generally be posting things on Quotev first but it won't be long until things come out on

You will find a link to my Quotev account on my profile page.

By guys, and take care.

~ CareFreeHugz


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